


335. kill a god

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [94]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 01:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8184214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: “I need—” Sarah says, and looks down at the table. Her brow furrows. “I can’t do it. I keep – I have the bloody gun, I can’t fire it. I can’t kill her, Helena, and I need to. It has to be me.”
No it doesn’t, Helena thinks.
This isn’t a story, Helena thinks.
Anyone could kill her, Helena thinks. She’s just a person. It doesn’t have to be you.
“You want me to tell you,” she says slowly, “how to make Rachel into a person you can kill.”
“Yeah,” Sarah sighs, sounding relieved. A hand darts up and shoves through her hair. “Yeah, could you?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second god-killing prompt on this list and the second one I have made about Rachel, so take THAT as you will.

****Sarah comes back from the island quiet, and tense, and limping. Helena meets her at the new safehouse, the safer-safehouse, the no-really-it’ll-be-safe-this-time safehouse where Siobhan keeps her rifle with her all the time and Kira has to stay in the back bedroom and be quiet.

( _We’re at war,_ Siobhan says, but Helena doesn’t know how you’d tell.)

Helena sits down at the table with a sigh. Sarah sits down across from her, putting the crutch she keeps trying to tell them she doesn’t need up against the table. She looks at Helena. One of her legs bounces. The one with no stab wound.

“I need to kill her,” she says bluntly.

Helena blinks. “Who,” she says.

“Rachel,” Sarah says irritably. Because of course. It’s only ever been Rachel, for Sarah. She was always Sarah’s to kill.

“I can kill her,” Helena says. “She’s on the island, yes? I can—”

“You have your babies,” Sarah says, and her eyes are violent and pleading and she _wants_ to, Helena realizes, she _wants_ this. Helena never really _wants_ to kill people; she always _has_ to, she talks herself into it. She doesn’t look at someone and hate. Not really. It makes her too tired.

“Okay, Sarah,” she says quietly. “Why are you telling me this. That you have to kill Rachel.”

“I need—” Sarah says, and looks down at the table. Her brow furrows. “I can’t do it. I keep – I have the bloody gun, I can’t fire it. I can’t _kill_ her, Helena, and I need to. It has to be me.”

_No it doesn’t_ , Helena thinks.

_This isn’t a story_ , Helena thinks.

_Anyone could kill her,_ Helena thinks. _She’s just a person. It doesn’t have to be you_.

“You want me to tell you,” she says slowly, “how to make Rachel into a person you can kill.”

“Yeah,” Sarah sighs, sounding relieved. A hand darts up and shoves through her hair. “Yeah, could you?”

What a favor to ask. Helena pulls her lips between her teeth and looks away. The kitchen tile by the stove has a chip in it. There’s a splatter of tomato soup on the stove, and it only looks like tomato soup. It doesn’t look like anything else.

“It’s hard,” she says quietly, “to go back. Once you stop seeing people as people. It makes everything easier. And then it gets easier and easier and you forget how to see people as people again and then your hands are always bloody and they never get clean.”

“Thanks,” Sarah snaps, “but I can deal with the bloody moral crisis after Rachel is dead and my family isn’t getting _kidnapped_.” Her voice is vicious, frustrated. She wants this to be so easy. She wants Helena to flip a switch in her brain and make everything easy for her and Helena is so _tired!_ How can Sarah not understand. How can Sarah want this.

She sucks in a breath and lets it out again. Puts her hand on her belly. Breathes and listens to three heartbeats, bump ba-ba-bum-bump bump. She is better now. She _is_. And Sarah is sitting next to her, leg hopping, fingers twitching all over each other, waiting for Helena to tell her how to get worse. _Please, Helena, make people into targets for me_ , like Helena hasn’t spent all this time trying so hard to make it the other way around. But. Rachel was at the end of her sniper scope, once, and Helena let her go. The scales are unbalanced. She can let Sarah balance them.

(Sarah, stepping in front of Helena’s gun, begging Helena not to kill Rachel, eyes all bright—)

(Sarah now. Sarah with a wound in her leg. Sarah with her family hiding in the back rooms.)

(Balance the scales, Helena. Fix this.)

Helena opens her mouth. The words are piling against the roof of her mouth, crawling back into her throat, desperate for her not to say them.

She sucks in a breath. She tells Sarah what to do.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)


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